


Bus Stop

by flavi_taffy



Series: Starboy [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Original Character(s), Songfic, Starboy Series, a tiktok made me write it, i was HURT bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flavi_taffy/pseuds/flavi_taffy
Summary: Ilyas puts his hand underneath her chin and Claire is glad that he did because she feels as if she can float away at any moment. The touch keeps her grounded while the kiss makes her feel like she’s dancing up in the heavy clouds. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed, nor will it be the last, but somehow both Claire and Ilyas know that this kiss is special.
Relationships: Ilyas/Claire Kira (Original Work), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Starboy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005216
Kudos: 8





	Bus Stop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@skiptracers on tiktok](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40skiptracers+on+tiktok).



> Listen to Claire de Lune (Ethereal Remix) to get maximum feels
> 
> [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NTfeMhyyy5o ]

It was warm for a night in November. Warm being that you could wear two layers and not freeze a limb off, so yes, it was warm. The sky was a fiery orange mixing with the drops of blue and purple in the edges of the sky. Streaks of thick clouds painted over the sky, obstructing the last rays of sunshine that peaked over the horizon.

The quiet _click clak!_ of shoes could be heard in the street that held a bus stop underneath a streetlight. The steps hurried over, seeking protection from the light drizzle the heavy clouds held. Claire slowed her jog as she neared the bus stop, smiling when she saw who was already sitting there. The dim yellow light lit the dark locks of the man sitting underneath it, giving him a small halo.

Ilyas was an interesting character. He had shaggy long hair where it curled in the ends that met the tips of his pierced ears and tattooed nape. He always slouched and never bothered fixing his posture but always somehow towered over everyone he meets. He has the fashion sense of a vampire stuck in the late 1800’s that interacted with an emo teen from the early 2000’s. Truly, an interesting character.

The slouched man sat on the bench, a cup of coffee in his hand, and his phone on the other. Claire didn’t expect him to be here so early, he’s usually the one who’s always late between the two of them. He didn’t seem to notice Claire’s arrival as he was too busy reading something on his phone.

“Hi, stupid.” Claire whispered, not wanting to spook the concentrated man. Ilyas still jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his coffee.

“You’re late.” Ilyas grumbled as he stuffed his phone in one of the many pockets of his black winter coat. Claire laughed at the statement as he was the one who usually received that statement, and not her.

“I’m not late, you’re just early.” Claire giggled as she settled near him on the bench. “This is a first, what’s up?” she asked as she nudged her knee to his legs, asking for an answer.

“Can’t I just miss my girl and be early for once?” Ilyas replied, nudging her leg back. Claire turned to look at him, propping up a leg on the bench in between them.

“You were late on our last date; I don’t think no amount of love can change how you don’t care about time.” Claire jokingly pouted to him, crossing her arms. Ilyas set down his cup of coffee as he reached over and hugged Claire, tucking her head underneath his chin.

“No really, I just miss you is all.” Ilyas muttered as he hugged Claire and petted her head. “I don’t know how much time I have left and I just want to be there with you whenever I can…” he whispered to Claire’s hair.

“We could have more time you know.” Claire whispered back to his chest, reaching up a hand to grab the soft white polo that hides underneath his coat. Ilyas loosens his hug with her reply, but Claire doesn’t let go.

“What’s stopping us from having more time?” Claire asks with a slight tremble in her voice.

“Me.”

Claire straightens up and sees Ilyas smiling down at her. The smile isn’t happy, but it isn’t sad either. It’s the smile similar to the feeling of the warmth leaving the sheets when he gets up from bed. It’s the smile similar to the feeling of waking up from a nap and seeing the sun go down. Claire finally lets go of his polo, and smiles the same smile back. They both sit there on the bench, the yellow lamp casting a halo atop both of their heads, smiling at each other. Ilyas reaches out to grab Claire’s hands and she almost flinches away from his touch.

“I’m sorry… I know it’s hard for you, but somehow it feels like its harder for me.” Claire quietly says as she reaches for his hand. Ilyas squeezed her fingers as a reply, knowing what she meant.

“You’re acting like you’re never going to see me again.” Ilyas laughs as he brought their hands to his lips. “Well it definitely feels like that!” Claire says with a pout.

Ilyas drops their hands to his lap, still laughing at Claire’s scrunched up face. Her freckles show up more in the dim light, he noted, and he could almost make constellations with the stars that litter her cheeks.

After a few beats of comfortable silence, Claire lets go of the pout and looks across the street. They’ve had this talk multiple times by now, but every time it gets harder. Ilyas breaks the silence with him clearing his throat.

“I can’t make you understand. I can’t make anyone understand because I can’t even understand it myself.” He says out loud, almost like he’s declaring it to the world and not to Claire. Claire whips her head to look at him and she takes that moment to _truly_ look at him.

His shaggy hair is still unkempt as it always is, but this time there’s an order to it. Claire sees the contrast of his dark hair against the orange sky and she marvels at the beauty of it. He’s still slouching, but he slouches with the tiredness of an old hound that’s been hunting all day. His hands meet each other in between his thighs, covered with old scars and poke-it tattoos. He fiddles with his rings and bounces his leg up and down.

It wasn’t until she heard a car drive past did Claire stop staring. He still facing the street across them, but he’s looking at her now. Claire opens her mouth to say something but before she can say anything, Ilyas faces towards her and steals a kiss.

Ilyas puts his hand underneath her chin and Claire is glad that he did because she feels as if she can float away at any moment. The touch keeps her grounded while the kiss makes her feel like she’s dancing up in the heavy clouds. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed, nor will it be the last, but somehow both Claire and Ilyas know that this kiss is special.

Claire sighs into the kiss, loving how his lips fall perfectly into hers. When Ilyas pulls back, she finds herself following his lips, leaning over, wanting more. Ilyas stands up and shrugs his big black coat.

“C’mon, let’s go. It’s getting dark.” Ilyas says, reaching a hand out for Claire. She grabs it and laughs as he had to hull her up to get her fully standing. They leave the small bubble they’ve created for themselves underneath the streetlamp, away from the shelter they’ve made from the rain and the world. They didn’t know they were making memories; they were just having fun.

* * *

It was late November, and it was getting colder every day. Days kept on becoming colder and colder and gusts of wind would tickle your back sending shivers up your spine. This time, the sky was a deep blue, drowning in swirls of purple and black. The sky was clear of any clouds, showing the sparkle and twinkle of stars beyond the dark heavens. The sun had died just a few minutes ago, but it was too early for the moon to peak.

The sounds of footsteps could be heard in the street that held a bus stop underneath a streetlight. The steps would take long intervals from each other, as if that the person were taking long strides towards the bus stop. Once near the bench, Claire scurried over, desperate to take shelter from the cold.

The lamp above her head, though dim, provided some warmth for her cold fingertips and heart. The yellow light bounced off her hair, making her shine as if she was the sun that was lost from the skies.

Claire knows that he won’t come this time, but she’s desperately hoping that he’s just late. By the umpteenth time she’s checked her phone, she knows he isn’t coming. She’s expected this, but she still comes to the bus stop at this time everyday hoping she’d see him here. She knew she wouldn’t see him here ever again, but this doesn’t discourage her to stop checking.

She bounces her leg, not really knowing why she’s still sitting there. She lies to herself and says that she’s staying for the comfort and warmth the bus stop provides.

Claire thinks of the last time they met at the bus stop because it’s the only thing that can keep her grounded. She closes her eyes and tries to breathe because she can already feel her breath quickening. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes, and she sits up straight and fiddles with her hands. She thumbs a ring Ilyas gave her last winter and she focuses on that feeling instead.

A tear does fall, and she quickly reaches up to wipe it. She grabs the sleeve of her sweater and uses her wrist to wipe the tear away looking down on her other hand that wore the ring.

She doesn’t look up again until she hears a car drive past the bus stop. She looks to her left, still expecting him to be there but he isn’t. Claire eventually stands up and fixes her appearance. She doesn’t move from the bus stop until another car drove past her.

She walks away from the small bubble she’s created, away from the warmth and familiarity of the bench and dim lamp. Her steps are slow and unsure, almost like she can’t leave the bus stop just yet.

Claire thinks to herself that maybe it would be better if she just forgot. She thinks that forgetting about the laughs, the hugs, and the stollen kisses would make her feel better because not having him here hurts more.

Claire didn’t forget, but then again, how could she.

**Author's Note:**

> if u came from The Tiktok THEN HI OMG I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS??


End file.
